God'slayer and the Cursed Mage
by Aulianas
Summary: Two convicts manage a lucky break when the Emperor frees them from prison. Can they survive the Dha'kal Prophecy, stopping Oblivion, and each other? Humor/adventure. Read and review. Not a novelization, but LOTS OF SPOILERS. T for some language/blood.


A/N: I was bored, and decided to write a fic of my Oblivion char's adventures. There are spoilers, so if you haven't played the game yet, I suggest that you do so. My main chars, Kal and Seathan, are OCs, and I am writing this as I play. By the way, THIS IS NOT A NOVELIZATION, the storyline will change as I see fit. For instance, there will be two escaped convicts. The two chars will also have unique backgrounds: Kal is the dha'kal, an ancient legend of a Khajiit warrior with red fur so dark it appears to be black. Translated, the legend's title is, taken literally, is 'God'slayer,' (foreshadow obvious enough?). Seathan's background is that he managed to blow up half his city, so they put him in jail.

Disclaimer: I do not own Oblivion. If I did, you could dual-wield. Ah well.

Elder Scrolls IV

Oblivion

God'slayer

Kal

I wake up with a splitting headache. The last thing I remember is being in a bar, getting drunk... some fool Dunmer mocks me for my fur... I have a knife...

Why is the ceiling stone? And why is it so...

Okay, strep: I am on a mat, in a stone room, with chains everywhere. There is a barred door, and bones lying across the floor. There is a small pitcher of water and some food, and the last thing I remember is stabbing a Dark Elf.

Goddamnit, I'm in prison again, aren't I. Sonofa...

"Wake up, kitty kitty." Who the hell...

"That's it. There's a rat in my cell, Khajiit," The voice spits out the word like it was poison. "A fat, juicy rat. Does the kitty want it? Is the kitty hungry?"

I stumble over to the cell doors, trying to focus on the cell across from me. It's the bastard Dark Elf from the bar. Didn't I stab him? Several times? In the face?

Oh, wait. It's a different fellow. He was the one I stabbed in the foot.

"Aww. Is the kitty confused? That's too bad. Not that your kind is smart enough to know he word 'confu---"

He gets cut off when I pick up a rock and chuck it at his head through the cell bars. He starts yelling for the guards, shouting that 'The freak hit me!" I chuck another rock at him.

Eventually, a guard wanders into the room, investigating the commotion. "Alright, what in Oblivion is going on?"

The Dar Elf... what is his name... Galen? Malen? Valen? Something like that, shouts "The freak hit me! That's assault!"

"What are they going to do, arrest me? Oh, wait. That would be a bit redundant," I retort.

The guard looks at What's-his-name, then turns to look at me, and looks at the Dark Elf again. He sees the two bruises from the rocks I threw. He turns to look at me again.

"Nice shots." He then walked out of the room.

I just smirk slightly. The guards are lax. It'll be easy to escape. Of course, the idiot elf just has to ruin my mood by making threats.

"You're going to die in here, Khajiit! They're going to throw your body in the lake! When I escape, I'll find it and sell your pelt, you-"

Im out of rocks. Joy.

"-mongrel beast! I'll find your family and-"

He gets interrupted with a blow to the face. Again. This time, though, it's a lightning bolt. There's a Breton in the next room... I can smell him.

"Oi. Shut up."

I like this guy already. I decide to be social. I might need help escaping, and if he can bother to shock a Dunmer in the face, from at least a dozen feet away, casually too, he might be useful. I poke my head out of the bars, enough to get a glimpse of his cell.

"Hey, Breton! Nice spell. Looks like something finally shut him up."

The Breton grunts, apparently not very social. Strange for one of the magicka-casting humanoid races, they are usually extremely proud.

"Name's Kal. Any idea where we are?"

The Breton comes close to the cell door, and I catch a glimpse of his face. Even I am shocked, and my fur is blackish-red. Half his face is covered in glowing, black runes.

"Seathan. And as for where we are, good Khajiit, we are in a rather fortified bastion in the middle of a rather fortified city, in the center of a rather fortified nation."

He can't mean...

"That's right, Kal. We are in the Imperial Prison."

Ah, damnit.

I apologize for how short it is, just thought that was too dramatic to pass up. And I find endings like that hilarious. By the way, the high frequency of new paragraphs is entirely on purpose, I put it like that for Kal's perspective. He thinks less and acts fast. Seathan will have considerably longer paragraphs, as he thinks about everything before he speaks.

Remember, not reviewing can cause spontaneous combustion of woodland animals. Only you can stop forest fires! Save Smokey! Review today!


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